The False Chronicles: Theory of All Things
by Nabiki GMYW
Summary: It's a night of revelations for the clan, their human allies and their once-enemies when Lester reveals his true power. And Elisa's old flame drops by. Chapter 4 of 8 – Theory of All Things


**The False Chronicles**

_Chapter Four – Theory of All Things_

By Nabiki GMYW

Brief summary: It's a night of revelations for the clan, their human allies and their once-enemies when Lester reveals his true power. And Elisa's old flame drops by. Chapter 4 (of 8) – Theory of All Things

Disclaimer: Gargoyles belongs to Disney. Not me. You hear that? You've got nothin' on me, ya punks! Email at paganj@caribe.net Chapter Four in a series. Read the first three double quick before this one.

Lester Kramer was bullied inside the building by the gargoyle pretending to be clan leader. Beak face, oops, he meant Brooklyn, had been irritable all through the flight.

Hey, nobody _asked the gargoyle to give Lester a lift. He insisted. It wasn't his fault the creature had absolutely _no_ sense of humor._

As he entered the structure, however, all the irritancies he'd been subjected to for the last four days were suddenly worth it. Every cord of his being knew that this was the moment he'd dreamt of. Inside the Cloisters, this series of buildings that were once a monastery, a power that couldn't be described with words lurked.

He had to murder a woman to get the gargoyle clan, the human cops, the billionaire and the Vulcan knock-off together in one place. This place. Technically, this place's courtyard.

Among these nine people, the key to the beginning or the end was hidden. One of those people could end life as they knew it. And he was here to stop that person.

_If only you were here, my dearest Titania. I wanted to see your face when I laid all your plans to waste. I want to live, Titania. I'm too selfish to be these people's savior. I'm happy to be alive and I'm not ready to die anytime soon. I'm actually sorry for the poor sap you chose to replace me. Hopefully, I'll talk some sense into him and we can all go home and get on with life. An imperfect life? It doesn't matter, as long as we keep breathing. As long as we live, there's hope._

_I think I read that last bit in a tee-shirt somewhere…_

At last, the gargoyle and Lester reached the courtyard, where the four other gargoyles waited. Only the cops, the rich boy and the fairy were missing. Only a couple of minutes until show time.

PART ONE

For better or worse, they arrived all at the same time.

Detective Maza had just gotten out of the car when she saw Xanatos' car park beside hers. The car came to a complete stop and the engine turned off. Matt, standing next to her with his hands in his pockets, whistled and said, "Betty and Veronica are here."

Indeed, a blond and a brunet stepped out of a surprisingly common car carrying the Richest Man of the World and Assistant.

            "What happened? Porsche is in the shop?" Elisa asked the approaching figures.

            David Xanatos rewarded her with an irritating smirk. "I thought we should be a little more inconspicuous tonight."

Inconspicuous indeed. He wasn't wearing his good old red exosuit, but he did have some armor hidden under that big black trench coat. It was the same one he used to wear when he was out in a fight with too many civilian witnesses. In this case, he must've decided that while the situation could get bad, the exosuit wasn't necessary.

It also meant that he didn't expect a fight with the clan. But should he? The clan had mellowed on him somewhat. They thought it was unfair to ruffle his mourning royal feathers.

_The only one that has given him a fight is me…_ Elisa pondered. _I don't know what to feel about that. On one side, I hate his guts and it seems horribly unfair Goliath had to die for him, on the other… he did have it hard. But if Owen is back, does it mean I still have to be nice to him?_

            "So," Xanatos continued, "Where is the gang?"

            "Probably inside, waiting for us," Matt Bluestone replied. Then he focused on Owen Burnett, standing a few steps behind Xanatos.

            Elisa noticed him a while ago. "Owen. So the rumors are true."

            "Hello, Detective Maza, Detective Bluestone. I didn't know you were coming," Owen said in his usual monotone.

            "Well, we were certainly expecting _you_ to show up," Matt replied.

            Owen gave Matt a curious look and said, "I wonder… is there someone who _doesn't know I'm back?"_

            "I don't know. The mutates? News travels fast in the realm of the supernatural," Elisa was the one to reply.

            "I bet it does…" Owen mumbled.

Owen hadn't changed a bit. Underneath his light crème trench coat, he had his old suit and red tie. He looked a little tired, but otherwise normal, and no doubt he was as sharp as ever. Although he wasn't one to prance around in full suit armor like his boss, Elisa thought she saw a gun holster inside his jacket.

So. They were all prepared. Elisa had her regulation gun; fully loaded, and brought an extra pack of ammo just in case, since she had a nasty habit of not having bullets in the crucial moments. Matt was no doubt similarly armed.

            "Are we all packing?" she couldn't help but ask. "Why?"

            "Why not?" Xanatos asked, "As they say in my town, 'walk tall and carry a big gun to back it up'. Especially tonight, since I still have no idea what to expect from this impromptu meeting…"

            "We neither," Matt replied, "But I think we're in for a card game."

            Xanatos and assistant gave the detectives puzzled looks.

            "A test," Elisa began to elaborate, "A test using cards. You know, playing cards. He made us pick a card. If you pick the Joker, Lester thinks he has the right to kill you."

            "Lester?" Owen interrupted.

            "Lester Kramer," Elisa said, "After three days of badgering, he finally dignified us with his name."

            Owen looked thoughtful about that last bit of information. "Lester Kramer…" he repeated absentmindedly.

            "But cards?" Xanatos carried on, "Why cards? Do they have magic?"

            "Hey, we're as stumped as you two," Matt spoke up.

            "If anything, we thought Owen could clear a few things up…" Elisa added.

Neither Owen nor Xanatos had met Lester. But the guy did have some sort of power and Owen could be capable of telling them exactly what they were up against.

They watched as Owen took a few steps towards the building and looked up to admire it. "You want me to tell you what I'm feeling right now…" Owen said, without taking his eyes off the Gothic structure. The two huge doors leading into the courtyard were full of intricate designs of days long passed. "What abilities you said he had?"

"He said he could see 'the past, the present, but not the future'…" Elisa replied, and then added with a soft tone of sarcasm, "He called himself 'two thirds omniscient'."

"I see," Owen said. "I feel something… but it's…" He took a couple of steps forward, "This… this is something else. I feel something strong in this place. It's like… I don't know. Like radiation. It's all over the place."

            "How dangerous is it?" Xanatos asked.

            Owen considered the question, then turned around to face the group. "I don't know. But I'm glad we're all packing."

Having heard the verdict, the group stared at each other uneasily. But they were already there and they had to deal with it.

Owen went on ahead and Matt quickly followed. 

            But Xanatos and Elisa stayed behind for a second, when the former told the latter, "Gee, detective, just try to look a little less disappointed in Owen's return… you'll hurt his feelings."

            "You mean I'll hurt _yours_," Elisa said crisply. "Let's just drop it for tonight, all right?"

            "No, it's _not_ all right. You've insulted and humiliated me for the last couple of months and I want a little payback, if you don't mind."

            "What?" she snarled, "Planning to rub in the fact that you have your family back while mine is still dead?"

            "Why, yes. I couldn't put it better myself."

            "Screw you, Xanatos!" she snapped back, "I hope he _does die for good this time, if only to see the expression on your face!"_

Xanatos stared at her aghast, but she didn't give him a chance to reply. Elisa had turned around and marched towards the entrance, declaring their conversation over.

_Dammit, Xanatos, you make it impossible for me to get along with you!_ She wanted to yell at him. _Fancy_ _you should be the one getting his life back, you, the man that destroyed my brother's life and rendered Goliath's sacrifice worthless. It's a fucked up universe out there and I hate it. And I hate you for it!_

Steaming in anger, Elisa marched inside, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

*                           *                         *

Unaware that the others had arrived, Dennis was still running around the ancient monastery's second floor, looking for a good place to watch.

The Cloisters, as it was commonly known, was in the style of medieval times. The buildings enclosed a large courtyard that was surrounded by a roofed passageway with a series of regularly spaced columns.

He was on the second floor, the balconies. Always one to show up early, he'd been there when the first group of gargoyles arrived. The first thing he thought when he saw those mythical creatures was, "Damn, he _wasn't kidding!"_

All this time, he hadn't really expected to see _real_ gargoyles, though he hadn't been expecting men in rubber suits either. In short, he hadn't known _what_ to look forward to when he heard the words 'we're meeting with the clan'. Maybe because he had only seen it on TV or heard it from third persons, it all had sounded so… unreal before.

Yet they were real. They had mass and weight of real things. Looking at them opened a whole new world of possibilities. He was in awe, more surprised than one would expect, and it disturbed him.

_There are more things between heaven and earth that I ever thought possible. If stone can talk, everything is possible, isn't it? The world is truly limitless and I used to know that… once. When did I start putting everything in neat little boxes, anyway? Before or after Mary?_

And why did he feel strangely comforted by their presence? He realized he didn't feel particularly scared, as if he came across mythological creatures on an everyday basis. Ever since he started working in the castle, all those weird happenings were so… natural, somehow. He wasn't as terrified of them as he thought he'd be.

_Mr. Burnett, then the ghosts, now the gargoyles… I'm surprised that I'm not surprised. Everything is so…expected, I guess._

As for the gargoyles, they weren't so scary looking in real life. The aquamarine certainly looked slimmer now. But the green-olive one looked even smaller. It was like meeting a famous person in real life. Not quite what he was expecting.

He had a bird's view of things from the second floor, but it was hard to make out details. The sound wasn't all that either, so he resolved to stay really quiet most of the time. Theoretically, he _could_ watch from downstairs' and not get caught, but he wasn't a believer of foolish chances. Better safe than sorry, that's what he always said.

So he sat crossed-legged in the balcony, carefully getting out of sight. He would watch the reunion and then scram when it was over.

He took the opportunity for some much-needed pats on his own back. _For a guy that's new at sneaking, I'd say the first round has been successful. Infiltrated the mafia boss's meeting, now it's a matter of laying back and seeing the show…_

Famous last words…

He watched as another gargoyle and a human entered the courtyard. It was a red gargoyle, the one that Xanatos said was the new boss.

And the human…

He must've been the killer Xanatos was talking about. Dennis had never seen him before, but the guy looked strangely familiar. But he didn't know why.

*                          *                         *

Brooklyn led Lester into the courtyard, after detaining him for a moment for a crash-course on table manners. "I'm going to tell it to you straight…" Brooklyn warned, "You obviously went into a lot of trouble to coordinate this meeting. I'm sure you don't want to piss it all away when you're so close. So please… _attempt_ to be a gentleman."

"Will try, Brooklyn, my man," Lester replied, with one hand on his heart and another making a v sign, "But I make no promises…"

Brooklyn moaned…

With a topsy-turvy promise like that, it came as no surprise that the first thing he did, when he entered the courtyard, was rush to Angela's side and say with a sleazy smile, "Angela! Daughter of Goliath! Rumors of your beauty have reached the end of the Earth… but I had no idea… Honey, you're a _fine_ piece of gargoyle ass! Why don't you ditch the lard tube, come with me and do the crazy mating flight, if you catch my drift… Huh! Huh! Huh!" He said, making thrusts into an imaginary woman.

Angela, completely horrified, turned to Brooklyn and said with evident disgust in her voice, "Who _is_ this guy!?"

And so began a ten minute adventure into the introductions of the Manhattan clan. Ten minutes. It had taken him ten minutes to piss them all off.

Soon enough, Lester Kramer was clutching a side of his body in pain, but he was forever smirking. Never mind he had suffered the beating of an entire clan, he had already sucked it up and moved on.

Everything that came out of that man's mouth was snakes and worms. It wasn't so much as his words, but his attitude. That, and something else Brooklyn couldn't put his finger on. Something… so _irritating_ it was almost like magic.

As for the casualties of Lester's tongue, a few were mentally scarred for life. Angela was holding Broadway up like a shield against Lester and Lexington was busy watching over Hudson, who had just threatened to lop off the intruder's head three minutes ago.

Brooklyn felt a bit nauseous for actually defending the guy. The truth was the little bastard _did_ have it coming. But he reminded the clan that they still needed to hear what he wanted to say. "Then you can pound him all the times you want…"

            "Well, screw you, gargoyle!" Lester snapped, then began to grumble, "You try to save the universe as they know it, but do they appreciate it? Of course not! You give and you give, you degrade yourself to their level, you dumb down things for them…"

            "Shut. Up." Brooklyn snarled.

            Lester snorted. "You have no respect for divinity…"

            "Not for devils, I don't…" the gargoyle muttered under his breath.

            Lexington, who'd gotten off easy, all things considered, dared to ask, "Are you always this charming or is this just for us?"

            "Are you sure you want me to answer that?"

            "In the name of everything holy, please don't…" Brooklyn sighed.

            Angela gained enough composure to tear herself away from Broadway and take some menacing steps towards Lester. "You…" she began in cold anger.

            "Me?"

            "Are a sadistic… perverted…"

            "Oh, now, have a heart!"

            "…Odious little man!"

            "Oh, that's real original, babe…" Lester laughed, "You look so sexy when you're all angsty like that… come on babe, give us a kiss!"

Brooklyn, Lexington and Broadway jumped on Angela before she could deliver the slap to knock all his teeth off.

Matt entered the courtyard precisely at that moment, where he noticed the three gargoyles holding an Angela screaming, "Let me at him, let me at him!"

            The young detective approached Hudson, who hadn't moved an inch to help them. "Lester strikes again, I see…" Matt said, "Aren't you going to help them stop Angela before she throttles him to death?"

            "No. Would _you_?" Hudson said deadpan, with his armed crossed.

            "Hmm. Good point."

            "Calm down, Angela!" Broadway was pleading, "He didn't really mean to say those things about you!"

            "Of course I did!"

            "Shut _up_!" Broadway snapped back annoyed.

"Ok, people, _that's enough!" Brooklyn growled, as his eyes flashed white and his roared echoed in the courtyard. The gargoyles backed off from Lester as Brooklyn approached the man. "And _you_! SHUT UP!"_

"_Make me…" Lester challenged._

Brooklyn cooked in his own juices but he didn't take on the challenge. "I swear, mister… you don't apologize right now, let the universe fall apart, I really don't care. If you don't apologize and stop acting like a complete asshole, I'm going to throw you in the middle of the Big Bang _myself and I'll _gladly_ embrace the end of creation, because you'll already be __dead."_

Lester stared at him for moment. "Why, Brooklyn…" he said, sounding somewhat impressed with him. Probably fake admiration. "I hate to admit it, but you have a point. It's true… the end of everything is coming and I'm wasting my time insulting your people. You guys are noble and intelligent creatures, and you shouldn't put up with this sort of shit. You've been through a thousand years of hardships and troubles… and it's unfair of me to make it worse. Brooklyn…" He placed a hand on the gargoyle's shoulder, closed his eyes, shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, man. I really am. We cool?"

An 'I-don't-believe-you' look crept into Brooklyn's eyes…

And then who should walk in but millionaire and assistant. Owen came out first, followed by Xanatos, who seemed to be fuming over something.

Ten seconds of silence, and then that mouth…

"The ardent lovers are here. Don't mind their tired expressions; they were screwing each other silly last night."

Both Xanatos and Owen, who hadn't quite stepped inside when they heard that comment, let their jaws drop to their respective ankles. Meanwhile, Brooklyn moaned and covered his face. Ten seconds. Lester had broken his own world record.

            "_Lester…" Brooklyn warned._

            "Hey, they weren't part of the deal, Brook," Lester explained.

            "Excuse me!?" Xanatos interrupted, getting dangerously close to Lester, "_What did you just say!?"_

            "Xanatos, forget it, never _mind what he said…" Brooklyn hurried to interrupt, very much alarmed._

            "I said you and your boyfriend were fucking each other's brains out last night until the break of dawn, in every position imaginable," Lester quickly and crispy clarified, "What about it?"

Xanatos turned seven shades of red while Owen stared dumbly at all of them.

            "_This is the emissary?" Broadway whispered._

            "We're doomed." Lexington replied.

*                      *                        *

Elisa let out a mocking gasp of surprise, "Well, would you look at that? He actually made it alive!"

Barely, actually. But for a man whose air supply had been cut off by David Xanatos a few minutes ago, he was amazingly healthy.

            "What did I miss?" Elisa asked, having walked in just when the clan was prying Xanatos off Lester.

            "A Jerry Springer episode," Broadway told her, "Minus Jerry."

It took Brooklyn a fairly long amount of minutes to settle the order. The first half-hour was one of bruised egos and insulted people one step short of organizing a lynch mob against Lester Kramer.

Xanatos looked Very Pissed. Not normal pissed. Normal pissed Brooklyn could handle. But Xanatos was _way_ beyond the normal definition of pissed. Just like Angela. Angela was no better. Together, they formed a huge energy field of pissedness.

As for the others, Lexington was sighing wistfully, Broadway was actually frightened of Angela, Hudson was holding on to his sword until his knuckles turned white, and Matt was wondering what would Lester think of next. As for Elisa, who hadn't been present when Lester introduced himself to everybody, she was regarding Xanatos with quiet amusement after she heard Lester's accusations.

Surprisingly enough, Owen was the only one that didn't look too offended. Curious, but not all that insulted. He was the only one there that still kept his cool.

            Brooklyn began to speak, "All right… now that we're all here… more or less relaxed… and considering how un-relaxed Lester is going to make us feel the minute he starts talking… I propose a little yoga thing… Everybody take a deep breath…"

            "Cut the bullshit, Brooklyn, let's just get this over with!" Xanatos snapped.

            From the corner of his eye, Brooklyn noticed Lester was about to open his mouth, "DON'T!"

            Lester gave him an offended look and started to pout.

            "Come on, Brooklyn," Lexington continued, "Lester's had his fun. Let him talk so we can go home."

            "Yeah, and why not give Demona a nuclear weapon while we're at it?" Brooklyn replied, then turned to Lester. "We got to have some rules first. First rule, Lester, and this is the _golden rule_… you don't talk unless spoken to. Got that, Lester?"

            "Yes, my captain!" Lester said with a mock salute, "I won't say Xanatos' prissiness is because he didn't get any in the car…"

            "He's doing it again!" Angela complained.

            "Mind your business, sweet pea, or I'll tell them about that thing involving a dark secluded place and Gabriel in good old Avalon…"

            "Mind _your_ business, asshole," Xanatos snapped, "Before I rip out your tongue and shove it up your—"

Everybody started talking at the same time. It was Owen, of all people, who yelled at everybody to shut up. "You're all just adding gasoline to his fire! Just _let him talk."_

            Lester turned his attention to the still-unfazed Owen. "The fairy, pun intended, finally speaks."

            "Try as you might, I won't play your game," Owen said seriously, "Talk or leave. It's as simple as that."

            "I suppose you won't tell me whether he was a good fuck. Was he everything you ever wished for?"

            "Actually, he was an excellent lover. Everything I ever dreamt of. Best night in my millenary existence. A lovemaking experience that's changed my life forever. I'd repeat it in a heartbeat." Owen replied, utterly serious, "Now back to business. Speak now or we'll leave."

And for once, Lester didn't immediately sass something back.

The clan looked at Owen in surprise, not because of what he said (although Lexington asked Brooklyn whether he was serious and Brooklyn snarled and told him to focus on the _real issue while Angela theorized that he was probably kidding and Xanatos mumbled something that Hudson couldn't make it out, making the gargoyle feel half-tempted to ask him what was _that_ all about) but because he had managed to shut Lester up in the first try. _

Lester Kramer was actually gritting his teeth. "You think you're _so_ smart, don't you, _Mr. Burnett_?" he replied, "I expect nothing less from Lady Titania's favorite son. But I warn you. You won't feel so smart when you face the truth about yourself. The truth is that you'll be responsible for the death of millions and you know it. How can you live with yourself?"

"How can _you?" Owen responded, not buying his act for a second. "You pretend to know everything, but we both know you don't. So if you think you know me… _prove_ it."_

The conversation had suddenly gotten an intimate twist between Owen and Lester, and the clan wasn't sure how to react.

Finally, two powerful sorcerers were facing off in a battle that seemed to be written in the stars. Six gargoyles, three humans, one Child of Oberon and something else. 

Plus one.

PART TWO

Sun Tzu's _The Art of War dictated very interesting rules regarding war: _

Rule 18: All warfare is based on deception.

Rule 22: If your opponent is of choleric temper, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak, that he may grow arrogant.

Owen was about to see how right Sun Tzu was.

It had taken him less than a minute to seize up Lester Kramer's personality and intentions. Clearly, he'd led the others by their noses the minute he arrived by enraging them anyway he could. It was a plain old war tactic: distract people from the real issue so that they don't reason things out.

But, for better or worse, Owen Burnett had been created with a fairly thick skin against arrogant jerks. The years of service his other side had spent in Oberon's service had provided adequate training. It was like preparing for a hurricane by surviving a nuclear winter.

            "Go ahead, Mr. Kramer," Owen continued, "Prove me how high and mighty you are."

            Lester's eyes narrowed to slits. "Well, where shall we start? What test will Oberon's black sheep propose? What is my task, tricky one? Shall I relate to you what happened in those terrible days in Oberon's dungeon? The things you remember and the things you long to forget?"

            Owen tightened his good hand for a minute but immediately recuperated. "Start by proclaiming your purpose here," the blond replied, "Start by explaining the whole business with the emissary and the keys."

            "And what happened to Titania, who you are and what the hell are you doing here, for that matter," Lexington quickly chimed in.

            Lester smiled and shook his finger at them. "One question at the time, children! Please raise your hands in an orderly fashion."

            "First things first:" Brooklyn spoke up, "Where's Titania?"

            "Dead. Next?"

            "I'm afraid you're going to have to elaborate a little," Brooklyn added acidly.

            Lester shot him a look and started to rub his chin, "How am I supposed to explain it? Let's just say she walked through God's pearly gates and nobody has seen her since. But I'm here, and the key is here, so I guess her request came through."

            "Her… request?" Matt muttered unsure.

            "Yes. Or putting it in a way you stupid mortals can understand, she went to the Cosmic DMV, did all her paperwork, did the whole bureaucracy thing and finally got the permits to start her plans. I have to say she was warned that she wouldn't survive her plans, but she didn't listen. So all the Cosmic DMV could do was sit back and hope she got out ok, even though they were right and knew that there was no hope." Lester replied, adding no other explanations.

            "What the hell does that mean?" Xanatos snapped from his little corner.

            "Just what you think it means. There's no other way to explain it, I'm afraid."

            "All right, then answer this question…" Elisa Maza spoke up, taking a step forward, "Why is she doing this? Why did she risk her life for her plans? What's her purpose, what's so _important?"_

            Lester, who had forgotten she existed, turned to face her mildly surprised. "You mean you don't know? You must _some_ inkling if you even dare ask…"

            "Illuminate us, o mighty Lester, and quit beating around the bush before we _really get mad," Xanatos snapped._

            Lester snorted, "I don't have to tell you anything. You… _all of you… know what I'm talking about. It's no great __secret. Look inside yourselves, look at the world all around you, examine your silly little lives and you need _not_ ask that question…" _

            Brooklyn moaned. "Lester, believe me when I tell you we have no idea what you're talking about. If you don't give a damn good explanation, _we're going home and _you're_ going to jail."_

            "In other words," Lester replied, "You want me to spell it out so that your stupid little limited minds can comprehend?"

            The young leader gritted his teeth and hissed, "_Yes." _

            The strange man smirked and said, "What's the magic word?"

            Xanatos pulled out his gun and aimed it at him, "Start explaining or I'll blow your brains off."

            Lester stared at the gun and cocked his eyebrow. "That's not what I was expecting, but since you asked so nicely…"

Then Lester walked into the middle of the circle all of them had unconsciously created. He extended his arms as if he were talking an auditorium packed with people and began to speak:

"Once upon a time, there was a spinning wheel going round and round. It ruled the life of mortals and immortals. The wheel kept going and going, and for some reason, the axel never broke or wore down. Everything was redundant. People, places, relationships. That wheel, that universe, was supposed to walk down the same beaten path over and over and over again. If it was meant to be, it was meant to be and there was no way out. No other roads. If you're fucked, then you're fucked. _That_, my lads and lasses, was called a universe run by fate. It was all a big paradox, a big loop in time. It didn't have a beginning or an end."

"Then something happened. Allow me to explain."

"So it was all very redundant. It had to be. If its moon ever lost it's momentum as it circled the earth, it would probably be shot right out of orbit and into space, or maybe plummet into the Earth and kill them all, like any good scientist would tell you. Their life was something that had to spin continuously, because losing momentum will mean big changes. But they forgot that old adage: all things that can go wrong will go wrong."

"After all, life is about endless possibilities, right? Wise men have said all things are true. And you don't know how strange that truth can get."

He paused for a moment and delighted in the fact that everybody was hanging onto his every word. "Just a reminder, but I'm revealing the secrets of the universe here. Shouldn't you be taking notes? There'll be a quiz later."

            Brooklyn made a face and snapped, "Just get _on_ with it."

            "Fine." Lester said petulantly, "As you may or may not noticed these last few months, you're life has been pretty shitty. Shitty, fucked-up, screwed… you've turned stupid, boring, maladjusted… ain't that so, Detective Maza?"

            "Up yours, cretin," Elisa snapped between clenched teeth.

            Lester went tsk-tsk. "Bad cop, no doughnut!"

            "Just keep _talking_, will you?" Brooklyn said miserably.

"So, anyway…" Lester went on, "The reason you're all so miserable is because something broke that rule three months ago. _Something happened to you._ Somehow, for some reason, that wheel of fate kept on chugging and left you guys back in the station. Kicked you out of the boat and left you alone in the multiverse' seas. In short," Lester concluded as his tone somewhat flippant but clearly malicious, "_Your Queen Titania has exiled you from the paradox that used to be your lives. By engaging in the Gathering debacle, she murdered a gargoyle, killed the rich boy's wife, cast child and servant to Avalon and dropped the burden of command on one who wasn't meant to be leader."_

He waited for that last bit of information to sink into their minds, and then he added casually, "Of course, that's not the worst of it."

            "You mean it gets _worse_?" Angela muttered with a healthy degree of skepticism.

            "Yeah," Lester replied, "Y'see… Lady Titania is hell-bent on making it _right_…"

            And an amazed Broadway said, "So the key…"

            "…is her way to destroy this," Lester finished, "Titania's way to destroy this timeline, this world gone horribly wrong. These lives that weren't mean to be. Everything and everyone from this crooked timeline."

            "Timeline?" Hudson was the one to ask.

Lester gave them all a look. "Haven't you figured out the cosmic implications of everything I'm saying?" He laughed and said, "I'm talking about the Nature of Reality and everything that phrase conveys. Haven't you the slightest clue of the sheer size of your mess? We're talking about _major revamps to everything we consider to be here, real, the past, the present and the future. Titania is tinkering with the very essence, fabric of Everything. With a big E. All this effort…" he sneered cruelly, "To help those selected few…"_

Lester turned to Elisa and smirked, "To save the romance between a gargoyle and a human. The romance that would propel a new era of tolerance between the two races."

Then he turned to Brooklyn, "To clear the way for the young gargoyle chosen to be the TimeDancer, the master of the Phoenix Gate, which suddenly drops in his lap and whisks him away into a journey through time."

And at last he turned to Xanatos and Owen. "And to save the lives of her precious daughter's family and her son, Alexander Fox Xanatos, future Secretary General of the United Nations, three centuries from now. And who can forget Owen Burnett, his loyal Chief of Staff?"

            "That's… our future?" Elisa muttered.

            "Correction," Lester said, "That _was_ your future. But now… it _isn't_."

            "I… don't understand," the female detective whispered nonetheless.

            Lester sighed melodramatically. "What was supposed to be now _isn't. Titania's purpose is to chase an ideal to fulfill her definition of 'whole'. Jump back into the train that left her behind and completely forgot her. 'Fix' it."_

            "Fix it?" Xanatos interrupted, "How? This thing started when…" He trailed off when the truth hit him with a sledgehammer. "We're talking about _time-travel_, aren't we? Going to the past and alter history! _That's_ what Titania is trying to do!"

            "At last, an assumption instead of a stupid question!" Lester replied with a smirk. "Yes and no, David Xanatos. Time-travel is not quite what we're talking about, but I have no other way to explain it… anyway, it's our duty to stop it."

            "Stop _what_?" Brooklyn exclaimed.

             "Her, Titania. Haven't you been listening?"

            "…I don't understand…" Brooklyn whispered, almost croaked, "…if this is our future, our _real_ future, why do you want to stop the key? If the key is supposed to give us that future… why are _you_ trying to stop the key, Lester…?"

            "It's not _that_ pleasant, believe me," Lester sassed, "Not when the plans include wiping us from existence. She's chasing a mirage, and no matter what she does, she'll never turn that dream into a reality. I'm not talking about a simple, amusing romp or a close loop in time. This goes way beyond anything you've seen with the… gold plated toy that looks like the sort of junk they sell in a garage sale. The wheel has begun to balance itself again and the spin is now differently. The worst has passed and something new has been woven. The window to cause the sort of loop Titania has in mind is closed… any attempts now could be disastrous. Man, how can I make you idiots understand…? Have you heard about the grandfather paradox?"

            "Hey, hey, I know that one!" Matt interrupted. "Suicidal guy goes to the past and kills his grandfather. What about it?"

            "Yes. And whatever happens to the suicidal guy? If he was never born, how could he be there, killing his grandfather? He pops out of existence. Or does he? By popping out of existence, there's no way he could've killed his grandpa, so he indeed was born and he really did kill grandpa, only that he couldn't and so on and so forth. That cannot be. It is illogical and it causes an utter and complete collapse of the poor bastard's timeline. And probably taking down everyone in that timeline with him. Titania is in a similar position. She's depressed and she's willing to go against the laws of creation to get her way, saving the daughter by killing everybody else. So suicidal queen creates a paradox that destroys timeline B while timeline A just keeps on chugging like it's nobody's business. Queen B never has her daughter back while Queen A never went through the disaster in the first place. Queen B wants to become Queen A, but the universe doesn't work that way. Queen B will just get herself killed, while Queen A plays peek-a-boo with her grandchild. Queen A doesn't worry over what she doesn't know. Queen B is just plain deluded if she thinks she can become A. Because A already exists, _she can't exist twice_.

_"That's_ why creation looks down on time travel, because it goes against the natural order, _that's_ why you can count time-traveling devices with one hand, _that's_ why fate has a strange sense of humor. Because it is _forbidden, because it only causes destruction and chaos, it destabilizes the whole multiverse. All she will cause is the collapse of Logic in our universe. We'll _die_. I can't stress that enough. If she fools around in time, __we'll just die. Worse, she'll die for nothing. The multiverse is about infinite possibilities, _and all possibilities are true_. Therefore, there already exists a Reality where the daughter lives. It's as real as ours. If a battle has a billion outcomes, all outcomes are just as true, even if you don't like the one you're stuck in. When she goes on and kills us all, she will go down too and some other Titania in some other life will be none-the-wiser."_

Lester trailed off, just for a moment. He turned to Brooklyn, as if he wanted to tell him something, but just as suddenly, he changed his mind.

            "Really, Brooklyn, it's not that hard to understand…" Lester bounced back. "Unless…" he paused for a moment, "You want to hear the whole theory? It's really quite fascinating. It happens to be the Holy Grail of science as it unified the Theory of Relativity and Quantum Mechanics. It's the Theory of Everything that mathematicians all over the world desperately look for… would you like to hear it?"

            "Well, yeah!" the gargoyle cried.

            "Do you have doctorates in astrophysics and theology, and maybe a master in biology?"

            "…No…" Brooklyn muttered begrudgingly, knowing very well he'd just set up his own fall.

            "No? Unless you are either Stephen Hawkins himself, or the reincarnation of Albert Einstein or Isaac Newton, you can just fuck off. I might as well be teaching big ugly apes to drive cars, and I might have better luck teaching _them that explaining to __you the divine secrets of the universe." He saw Brooklyn's ugly scowl and added, "Look, all you really want to know is that what Titania's trying to do is time-traveling suicide. Utter and complete Armageddon, just to fix her boo-boo. Things will never, ever be like she wants them to be, because they already exist, somewhere, sometime apart from us. All she will gain is _our_ destruction. Even if she does succeed, she will never see it. There is another Titania living that dream. She cannot usurp her place."_

For a moment, Lester even toned himself down a little. "Look. I know how disgusted you all are by the way things worked out. But be thankful you're still _alive to whine about it. What happens to the suicidal guy? Or the suicidal queen? _Do you really want to find out_? I say forget about it. Move on, get therapy, take up quilting… but do not mess with creation. The rules are there for a reason and the gods do not appreciate tinkering in the fabric of Reality. What you have to understand is that cosmic cars blow tires all the time. And they get fixed, even if they don't run as they used to. It's not bad. It's just… __different. The balance was broken and it is picking up where it left and spinning again. And it'll be different from what anyone expected."_

"But this timeline will be forever wrong…right?" Lexington said warily.

"Wrong is such a _big word when you're talking about astrophysics… who's to say she's totally wrong, that __that is the wrong timeline and this is the life you were meant to live? Is this timeline lesser than the other? What if this is all the delusion of a demented fey queen, and we go along with her plans to fool around time, and we destroy _our_ universe instead? More importantly, assuming she's right, what's going to happen to us? Who's to say we'll live? What if we die? What will we remember if we happen to live? What happens to the souls of people who die in an alternative timeline? Do we all go to the same Heaven and Hell? _You don't know, _Brooklyn. But I am giving you a choice. You either help me put an end to Titania's stupidities or face Oblivion. With a big O."_

Nobody said anything, not quite sure of what to make of it. After all, it's not everyday a self-proclaimed divinity drops by and tells them their lives are mistakes of nature.

"You've got to be kidding me…" Brooklyn replied, not believing a word of it.

"But Goliath said time was a river!" Angela yelled, pushing Broadway away from her and running towards Lester, "That time always returned to its course!"

Lester sighed, "Yes, but it's a matter of choosing _which_ course you'd like and how feasible is it, idiot. The rules of physics are actually quite bitchy about this. It's like trying to put up a business: you've got to go to the Hand That Writes It All and you only get to put your little bakery or your little porn shop if IT gives you the ok. That's right, my kiddies… the universe is just a big bureaucracy."

Everybody started talking and mumbling at once, much to Lester's satisfaction.

            "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Lexington yelled above the crowd, "So this is, what, a mistake? Goliath's death was a _mistake_?" 

            "That's _grotesque_ simplification of a very, very complicated matter, but yeah, I guess you could call it a 'mistake'…" Lester said, annoyed, "Look, uh… Lex, is it? Whether the old fart is dead or not is the _least_ of your problems. The key has a one-track mind. So when it makes his choice, about whether we get wiped out or not, he's going to do it and no amount of pleading will make him swing the other way. So, you have two options: either you convince him that your lives are worth beans after all, or kill or be killed by him. And when I say he has a one-track mind, I _mean_ it. Powers of the ten gods, stubbornness of twenty mules."

            Elisa raised her hand. "What is this key supposed to _do, anyway?"_

            "You means _besides_ killing us all?"

            Elisa snarled and said, "Don't play stupid, you know what I'm talking about."

            "No sense of humor…" the intruder replied, and shook his head in mock disappointment. "The key is a judge. A judge that judges. The problem is he also carries out his own sentences. If you want to live, you either suck up to him like you've never sucked up to anyone before and pray he rules in your favor. If he rules against you, well, you're not going to talk him out of it. His choices, once made, can't be reversed. So you either blow its head off or crack open a beer and get drunk as the world is consumed into Nothingness."

            "In other words, he chooses," Brooklyn interrupted, crossing his arms. "Chooses who lives and dies. Go or no go for this so-called 'screwed up' world."

Everybody was considering their options when Owen stepped up and forcefully asked, "But what about you saying that we needed to kill the key to avoid the end? What about _that? Should one die to save us all?"_

Brooklyn's ears perked up and he focused on Lester. It was the same thing Lester had asked the gargoyle an hour ago. Brooklyn wanted to know who he'd answer that.

"If the key goes ahead with Titania's spell…" Lester quietly explained, "He's going to die anyway. You're right. We must stop this fellow and make him see the error of his ways…"

Lester placed a hand on Owen's shoulder and said, "Please, Titania's servant. Don't go ahead and kill us all."

*                        *                         *

Owen blinked as all eyes focused on him. Then he remembered Lester thought _he_ was the key.

He wasn't sure what to make of all this. Some of the things he said _sounded_ true. And hadn't he felt it? That feeling, that feeling that it wasn't fair, that it wasn't right, that this wasn't meant to be. All of them felt it. All of them.

_But this isn't fair either,_ a little voice whispered, _It__ means my time in Avalon wasn't necessary. Everything I suffered was pointless. _

_What am I doing listening to this odious creature to begin with?_

Something inside Owen Burnett immediately hardened. There was no way Lester could be telling the truth. The whole story is too ridiculous, too mind-bogging to be true.

So he chose to not believe. Ockham's Razor. The simplest explanations were almost always true. So which was easier to believe? That the universe has gone insane and all the indignities he suffered were completely unnecessary because they would be wiped out of existence? Or that Lester Kramer had been bullshitting them from the start?

            "Lester…" Owen spoke icily, "You don't honestly expect us to believe that drivel, do you?"

            Lester blinked. Feeling challenged, he said defensively, "I'm telling you the truth, Child of Oberon. You know it's true. You've known it since Oberon dragged you by your pointy little ears and beat the shit out of you until even the Weird Sisters felt it was enough and begged him to stop. The _Weird Sisters, Puck. Who normally wouldn't bat an eye to save your sorry ass, even __those cold bitches were moved to pity." Lester's tone dropped several decibels. "You mean you didn't know how wrong that was _then_? Or did it finally hit you later that night, when your lord dropped by for a visit, made you go down to your knees—"_

            "**_Shut up, you insolent bastard!_" Owen finally snapped, with tremendous anger, not necessarily because of Lester, but for other many little and many big things that had been piling up since forever. "How dare you!? How _DARE you!? You don't know anything! You don't know anything at all!"_**

Brooklyn shot a quick, scared glance at Xanatos, who looked no less surprised than he was. As for the rest of the gang, from Broadway to Matt Bluestone, they all looked like deer caught in headlights. They'd never seen him like that. Owen was… Owen. The emotionless, Mr. Spock's clone, the pillar of strength, the quiet one that showed no signs whatsoever of emotions.

If _that Owen finally had it with Lester, then the clan understood it was time to put an end to his nonsense._

"You're a liar, Lester!" Owen continued, having never stopped, "You're just here to pest us! I _refuse to believe any words coming out of your mouth!"_

"Fine," Lester sassed back with a malevolent smile, although his tone was perfectly even, adding a new depth of sarcasm to everything he said. "Lie to yourself. You're _so good at that. Just cover your ears and think happy thoughts, just like that night. Do not underestimate the power of self denial."_

Xanatos immediately bounced into action, before Owen could properly process that last sentence. He grabbed his assistant by the arm, even before Owen knew it himself that he wanted to crack the man's skull open with his stone fist.

Brooklyn, who in a moment of clarity realized that if he had managed to get on the Ice King's nerves the poor mortals had no hope whatsoever, said, "He's right, Lester! You're just bullshitting us! Forget it, deals off, Elisa, drag this pond scum back to jail, lock him tight and throw away the key."

"Not _you too, Brooklyn…" Lester said, rolling his eyes, with a great air of tragedy. He sighed heavily. "Some things are true whether you believe them or not…"_

Matt Bluestone, for one, was more than glad to carry out Brooklyn's order. He whipped out his out his police-issued handcuffs and declared, "Believe _this, Lester… I'll make sure you don't leave jail until you're so arthritic-ridden you can't pick up your own set of false teeth."_

Next thing Matt knew, he was soaring through the air and about to make an emergency landing in the ancient concrete of the patio, several feet away from one astounded group of bystanders and one arrogant would-be god.

*                           *                            *

When Matt Bluestone had the brilliant idea of arresting him, Lester didn't think twice about making him fly across the yard propelled by unseen forces he had summoned without as much as a wink.

Because when Lester finally realized unbelievers surrounded him, he had reached onto his pockets and drawn out his precious deck of cards, which had never been real cards to begin with. They were small, condensed packets of energy that Lester had converted into cards, because in another life he had been an avid poker player. They were a handy, sturdy, dependable multi-use collection of energy. Good playing solitaire, reading the future and blowing things up.

Beginning to think that these people would never cooperate with him, Lester decided to move on to plan B; which consisted of saying 'well, screw this' and just go ahead and kill them all.

He had at least tried to make them understand, so if they refused to believe, it wasn't from lack of effort from Lester's part. _So it has come to this…_ he sighed inwardly _…why I even bothered to begin with is beyond my ken and my ken is considerable._

Still, even though he refused to admit it, he had hoped for something better. Allies, as it were. Even then he had engaged into this squabble half-heartedly, with a feeling that it was pointless anyway. 

He knew he couldn't afford these short lapses of mercy. He could see the past, the present, but the only future he got to see was his own death. He knew he would meet his doom by being shot to the head and bleeding to death on an ugly green carpet, in a future not too long from now.

With or without them, he wasn't about to let his own death become true.

So he chose to fight.

David Xanatos was in the middle of a "What the—" when he was forced to duck. One of the cards Lester had thrown his way had just transformed into a dagger in midair, and it had almost pierced his forehead.

The gargoyles got defensive and, with flashing eyes, decided to attack him.

Lester dealt with them without even moving. Two gargoyles surrounded Lester, so two gargoyles were propelled by an unseen force towards Matt Bluestone, who was just now getting up. Lexington and Angela landed unceremoniously on the poor detective, who later would be thanking his lucky stars Broadway hadn't tried to attack Lester yet.

Broadway growled enraged that his beloved mate was treated so rudely, but Hudson held him back when Lester said, "Gargoyle tossing! So, who's next?"

He caught Elisa trying to aim her gun at him, but he waved his hands with elaborate flourish and it superheated. The detective dropped it and watched her gun become molted lava before her eyes. Elisa groaned quietly. So much for the boxes of extra ammo she brought.

            "What are you doing!?" Brooklyn screamed. "This wasn't part of the deal!"

            "Well, going to jail wasn't part of the deal either!" Lester snorted, "I give and I give, I reveal the shitty matters of your existence, and how am I repaid? Mocked! Ignored! Rewarded with accusations of bullshitting you!" He sighed heavily and said, "Look, Brook-baby, all I wanted was to do you a favor. But seeing how uncooperative you are, well, I'm afraid you've become a burden. I'm too old for that sort of shit. That said…" Lester announced as he took a few steps backwards and smiled, "Get ready for something completely different…"

He extended the hand that held the card deck. "Let's drop the farce! **_Release_!"**

Much to the bewilderment of all present, the card deck floated in the air for a moment and turned into a little white ball of light. The light quickly turned into an elongated line, until it solidified into a rod with a magnificent curved blade on top. It was soon a metallic scythe, just a little taller than Lester.

The light from the scythe was blinding. The magic-impaired and Owen, who was human at the moment, were spared part of the shockwave such sorcery released. Nevertheless, all felt as if something was pounding in the skulls, a constant pressure that would've been smoothing under other circumstances.

"_Behold!" Lester yelled with a laugh, "__The role of Fate shall be played by a dark and sexy man tonight!"_

He grabbed his floating oversized scythe by the middle and gathered some momentum for a big, lazy swing right to left. There was a loud _swish_ sound, as if he had cut the very molecules of thin air. And perhaps he did, for a good eye could see a very thin blue line there in the air, precisely where he would've cut it.

And they all suddenly found themselves attacked by a powerful wave of invisible air, which knocked mortals off their feet and threatened to tear nearby trees in half.

PART THREE

The fireworks started in the courtyard and Dennis Anderson decided the time to leave had come at last.

He knew he should've left the instant the red head detective flew across the yard, but Dennis' curiosity was stronger than his instinct of preservation. No doubt many of his monkey ancestors from the Stone Age got killed like that, by staring at the pretty fire or the big dinosaur for way too long.

He had stared like a moron at the scenes in the yard until things got ugly. And even then half of him wanted to stay and see how it turned out. The other half of him intruded and screamed that this wasn't a movie, that he had to leave, that he could just pay five bucks at the movies if he wanted to see vengeful gods strike down mortals left and right.

When the wind ceased, he got up and ran. He ran down the darkened hallways were monks once copied down ancient manuscripts and looked for the staircase downstairs.

When he reached the staircase, he stopped dead in his tracks.

There were voices coming from downstairs. And a light.

Something made of light was coming up the stairs. Dennis took a few steps away and waited for the figure to come up. Running away didn't even cross his mind.

It was a woman. It was the woman from his dreams, the pretty green lady with pink hair only that she was… different. Her clothes were long, silver robes like a fairy princess. Or a fairy queen. 

She no longer looked green. It was a miracle he could recognize her. Her skin looked normal now, and she had beautiful brown hair. But even though she was different, she was still the same woman from his dreams. 

Oblivious to everything but the figure of light, he didn't notice the second wave of wind that started to shatter all windows.

*                           *                              *

It felt like they were surfing the seas in the middle of a hurricane. Brooklyn swung his arms desperately as if he wanted to swim the air, but he too was knocked down violently and made to roll to the opposite side of the courtyard.

Hudson and Broadway had gone to help Angela, Lexington and Matt up, after the last three had been so rudely tossed across the yard, but immediately had to duck when the wind forced them to.

Brooklyn quickly gathered his wits and tried to make up a game plan while Lester prepared for another swing of the scythe. The man-sized weapon looked amazingly heavy, and Lester let the thing's momentum do all the work in his second attack.

The second swing of the metallic gray blade released another wave of wind, just as violent as the first. Brooklyn noticed that the air itself had two thin blue lines corresponding to each slice, like a prisoner's back that had been flagged. But instead of blood, he saw blue light bleed through.

The young gargoyle had an insane but strangely accurate idea: that the air and space around Lester was bleeding to death. More than that, he could've sworn the earth lost its gravity. The blue light behaved like water spilled over from a tumbled glass. He saw two little puddles of blue energy float at different heights, like a surrealist picture or a Dali painting.

It was… gorgeous.

Unfortunately, Lester's mad giggling ruined the beauty. He added a frightening element that reminded Brooklyn of old medieval pictures depicting Death as the Reaper of Souls, sickle and all, posing magnificently in many-a tarot card.

"_I am Lester the mighty!" he was yelling at the top of his lungs, "_Kiss my godly ass_!"_

He swung for a third time and Brooklyn braced himself. The mortals nearest Lester, Elisa, Xanatos, Owen and himself sought the help of the columns to not get flown away.

Brooklyn didn't have to be a mind reader, or even a mild psychic, to know that Lester Kramer had been fooling them since day one. He'd hidden away his powers until the very last minute, for the only reason of finding his stupid key. Which could or could not be Owen Burnett.

Brooklyn looked at Owen. He was holding onto a column for dear life, stupefied at the display of power as everyone else. The night before, the whole clan had theorized that maybe he was such key, but now, right now, Brooklyn immediately discarded him as an option. He wasn't it.

The gargoyle could only get two assumptions out of it. That the key was yet to be found and that Lester wasn't as powerful as he pretended to be, or else he would've found that key person already. That last assumption was actually useful: if he wasn't all-powerful, he could be defeated. And if he could be defeated, Brooklyn may still have a chance to save his clan before Lester blew them up out of spite.

Brooklyn heard Elisa yell, "What the hell are you!?"       

"_What I am is of no concern to you. Not anymore, anyway," he said with his usual crassness, even though his voice sounded like thunder now, probably for effect. His scythe's blade let out a dull cold aura that just barely illuminated the courtyard._

Elisa carried on with her desperate questions, "Why are you doing this!? Why is this key person so important to you? If you want to save us, then why the hell are you trying to kill us now!?"

"_Hey, the world doesn't stop spinning if you're gone." He said with his thundering voice, although the thunder was rather unnecessary if he merely wanted to put her down.He was a drunk Zeus, talking to puny little mortals after gulping down several tequila bottles. _"Sad but true. I didn't have to go through the charade to kill the key. Surely, a smart guy like me could've figured something out_." He sighed dramatically. "_But woe to me that I gave in to mortal desires and wanted you to understand. Figured that if I was going to do you the favor of liberating you from that deadly paradox, you'd appreciate it."__

"Liberation?" Brooklyn interrupted, before Elisa could. "Is that what you call this?! Jerking our chains, feeding us half-truths!?"

_"See? My point exactly. Don't know why I even bothered wasting my holy breath on you ungrateful little people. C'est la vie, I guess. Can't save the ones who don't want to be saved. The lesson? When the End of Everything is coming, save your own ass. But I'm not without mercy. Hand over the fairy and you can all go on your merry way."_

"Fairy?" Xanatos muttered under his breath, not quite understanding, "But he's not a fairy, he's—"

"Yes, I **_am_," Owen replied before the millionaire said the Freudian slip that would kill them all.**

Lester didn't catch it, but Brooklyn sure did. He frowned. Typical Xanatos, neglecting to tell the clan about the crucial piece of the puzzle. He was going to have a talk with that guy, granted he lived long enough.

Owen, still steaming over Lester's words from before, didn't spell out to him that he knew who the key was. That would be stupid. But he couldn't resist the temptation to shove Lester's false assumption in his face. In his mind, this so-called god needed a reality check. He wasn't as powerful as he said he was, and damn if that know-it-all didn't need some dressing down.

"Some divinity _you are," Owen growled, "You're no better than the rest of us! If you actually think Titania would choose me for that key, you couldn't be farther from the truth."_

"_Joke's on you, Burnett." Lester replied, "__The key is not supposed to be aware of it. Even if you're not it, it's around. It's one of you, I'm sure of it. But you know what? I think I'll save me some hassle and just kill you all. It's what you deserve for turning me down. I wanted to help you stop the fates, I really did… But if you're not with me, you're against me. So let me introduce you to a friend of mine…"_

He held the scythe high above him and brought it down in a perpendicular motion. It left a visible bluish scar in space, as tall as a man. It looked like the scythe had just shredded a curtain or a paper or… _something_.

And then two hands emerged from the rift and ripped the …paper… to make the rift larger. Another _something began to step through, of monstrous size and enormous wings, lavender color and thick black hair…_

Goliath.

*                           *                             *

Ignorant or simply ignoring the storm out there, Dennis followed the lady of his dreams down the hallway and back to the balconies.

She was so quiet. Graceful. And she seemed so familiar to him, but he couldn't connect it with anyone else but the green lady. He was sure they were the same people. He could bet his house, his dog, his mortgage on it.

Eventually, she led him to the balconies and gestured him to look down.

Only then did he begin to feel the effects of the magical storm invading the old monastery, as if he had been invulnerable before. He looked down and noticed the guy with magical powers posing with that huge knife, looking incredibly smug. And there was a new gargoyle, a big purple one. Dennis had seen him in photos once. But wasn't he…?

            Dennis spun around to face the lady. "What's going on? Why is this all happening to me?"

_            "I cannot explain right now…"_ the lady of light said, her voice sounding strangely melodious for some reason. And slightly, somewhat worried about…something._ "If you wish speak to me, you must use the cards."_

            Dennis blinked. "Cards?" He looked down at the balcony and pointed at the man. "But _he's_ got the cards."

And he's kicking the gargoyles' collective asses; he neglected to mention. And the cards are not cards, they're a really creepy-looking sickle the size of Texas.

The lady said nothing, only stared at him knowingly. 

He groaned.

*                                *                                 *

Elisa Maza stared into the eyes of the love of her life and saw her face reflected on them.

The storm around them came to a screeching halt, while surprised mortals stared aghast in silence.

She hadn't expected to see him again, for obvious reasons. How many dark days did she spend holed up in her apartment, beating herself up for not having a picture of him? She knew that it made perfect sense when he was alive, because she meant to protect his identity no matter what. But she had also expected to see his face every night for the rest of her nights.

Photo or not, his features were burned into her memory with hot spikes. Like the old slaves who were marked with the name of their masters, Goliath's name was imprinted into her heart. He was lord and master of her love.

Goliath —that strange Goliath— had the old one's eyes; the sort you could drown in. But this one's eyes were mystifying for all the wrong reasons.

Their eyes met in that moment that crossed cut through space and time. If there were really other parallel universes out there, thousands of them like physics say, then there was no doubt in her mind that in all of them they were staring at each other like this.

And yet, not like this.

            "Goliath…" she whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

            "Elisa…" he said, "Oh, now… don't blubber."

For she was the first one he attacked.

He was upon her like a lion attacking a helpless deer. If Brooklyn hadn't been quick enough to asses the situation and push her away, she would've been slashed to ribbons by his mighty claws.

So Brooklyn was the one to start fighting with —it. The some of the others snapped out of their lethargy and tried to help. Angela, once she got over the shock, was immediately offended with this mockery of Goliath and didn't think twice about grabbing him by the neck and squeezing. Lexington and Hudson followed her cue and grabbed him by the legs, and so did Broadway.

Soon, the giant was down to the floor and the four gargoyles were over him. The fight was vicious, using both claws and teeth and everything, less like gargoyles and more like wild dogs.

Elisa watched mesmerized, even as Matt ran to her side and asked if she was ok, that they should do something, that maybe she ought to run away, don't worry, they'll handle it.

But she stared on and thought of him. She compared this Goliath with the one she had known and love. He —it, Elisa reminded herself— had no vestige of the good man Goliath was. Immediately, she recognized that this growling and snarling Goliath was just a distorted version of him, all his goodness and self stripped away and all his faults taken to the extreme.

And Matt tried to lead away the dumbstruck Elisa, and she still thought of him. And he forced her to run, and she still thought of him. And even as they managed to get away and reach the parking lot, and even as she stared towards the night sky to try to clear her mind, to snap out of it, she still thought of him and she ended up giving herself up to him completely and she wrapped herself in the thoughts of him like it was a warm blanket, even with Matt telling her to snap out of it, even if the clan was back in there, fighting for their lives.

*                         *                             *

Elisa had gone bye-bye on them and Xanatos was surprised with the fact that it actually worried him. He saw how dumbstruck she was and suggested to Bluestone to get her out of here. He was worried, he actually was. He didn't know how to feel about that.

But he had to focus on the there and now, where a creature that was his long-dead enemy was wiping the floor with his former clan. And, honestly, he wasn't sure how to approach the situation.

            "That's not Goliath!" Owen said.

            "Tell me something I _don't_ know, Owen," was the reply. 

            His assistant stood there, staring at the Goliath creature and the others as they fought, trying to assess the situation. "Then you know he's magical. A very strong illusion, one capable of punching through walls. But what I don't understand is how Lester…" He suddenly trailed off. "Where'd he go?"

            "What!?" Xanatos snapped, and stared into the courtyard.

Lester was no longer in the courtyard. No doubt he had hauled ass while they were not looking. Xanatos grabbed Owen by the arm and said, "Oh, no, he's not! We have to look for him!"

Both men ran inside the building, even though they knew this was a big place and for all they knew, he could be gone for good. 

Lost in the dark hallways and poking their heads inside every room, Xanatos knew they weren't going to find him. "Maybe he teleported, who knows?"

"I don't think so. He's still hiding, I'm sure of it," Owen informed. "He's not very powerful. That is, he's incredible for a human mage, and that's considerable power, but he's hardly at a Child of Avalon level. Under other circumstances, Puck could probably take him on. But right now, I'm afraid it's impossible…" Owen explained and sighed. "What makes him very difficult for even Puck to defeat right now is that…scepter. Without it, I'm sure he would put up a bit of a fight, but go down relatively easily."

Xanatos stared at him. He knew what 'relatively' meant in Owen's vocabulary. That meant that even if they managed to get that thing away from him, which could be best described as a power source, it still meant they were in for a long night.

He felt frustrated, helpless. But he still had to do something. Even though his common sense was whispering that he shouldn't worry, because…

But another little voice said, _You__ owe him. You owe Goliath that much. And since when have YOU turned down a good fight?_

            He turned to Owen, "How do we get the scythe from Lester?"

            "Prying it from his cold dead fingers, I would guess."

Xanatos was about to debate that point when he saw the shadow of a man passed in front of them. Employer and employee exchanged glances and immediately went after it.

*                              *                               *

Brooklyn didn't know when the fight had finished and the mud wrestling had begun. With a broken beak, aching knees, swollen wings and his whole body begging to faint, he was fighting a creature without any sense of reason.

            "Goliath!" Brooklyn was pleading, "It's me!"

            "I _know_ it's you!" Goliath sneered sarcastically, "Stand still and let me kill you!"

Back in the courtyard, the fight was still on. Messy, confusing, clear like the mud they were drenched in, fighting the bad copy of their beloved dead leader.

Brooklyn knew in his heart of hearts that it wasn't really Goliath, but he had to try, had to have the truth shoved into his face, because fighting him was so absurd, so wrong for Brooklyn.

It wasn't until he grabbed Angela by an arm that Brooklyn realized it was hopeless. "Father, please!" The creature didn't blink before he snapped her arm in two and Angela let out a scream that rose up to the heavens, made the earth tremble and broke Broadway's heart in two.

            "Angela!" Lexington gasped, but Broadway was already by her side.

            "Get her _out_!" Brooklyn snapped, "Hudson, get them both out!"

Without questioning him, Hudson immediately left with Angela and stopped Broadway from going after Goliath. "Not worth it, lad! Help your mate first!" Grumbling, Broadway obeyed.

It soon became fairly obvious that this Goliath was merely Lester's puppet and that his cards somehow served as strings. If anything, he was less like Goliath and more like Thailog. But there wasn't much he could do about it at the moment.

It was so that the gargoyles were down to two. Lexington, none worse to wear, and Brooklyn, who was pretty messed up. He was wondering if Xanatos and Owen would dignify themselves into lending a hand. He shot them a look, but they were already gone. And so was Lester, for that matter. Sneaked out, most likely. At least those two were making themselves useful.

"Honestly," the false Goliath was saying as he was wiping his brow, as the three gargoyles circled each other like hawks, "What was I _thinking_ when I left you in charge, Brooklyn? I bet you let Lexington download all the porn he can get."

Lexington's eyes flashed white, but he didn't attack. "We don't have to listen to you, you're not Goliath! And Brooklyn happens to be a great leader!"

"But he'll never be Goliath either, will he?" the fake one told Lexington, though his eyes were set on Brooklyn as he spoke, "You know I'm right, young one… pity you had to hear it from this mouth. Pity it had to be this body and this face who spelled it out for you… let us go, Brooklyn, or die trying! There is nothing for you here! Let the halfling do his task or I'll be forced to kill you!"

"No deal, demon!" Brooklyn spat back, "The humans are out there looking for your master and when they get him, he will die!"

The false gargoyle let out a laugh, "You idiot! The ones of my sort do not _die_! Even Lester Kramer himself is a pretense, something that has been many things since time began to matter in this universe."

"What sort of things do you mean!?" Brooklyn cried. "What are you!?"

"Nay but a servant of the creature that is my general. He still sleeps, but he will wake soon. For now, Lester Kramer is my captain, and I do what he says. Walk away, Brooklyn, he says, for the odds are against you. It's very likely the judge will rule against you, he says, so you must stop him from even starting the trial."

"Forget it!" Brooklyn yelled back, "Tell your 'captain' he's proven himself evil and corrupted, and that I'd rather take my chances with his wicked judge than hear his counsel!"

The false Goliath growled. "So you have chosen death, I see! Then there's nothing stopping me from ending your life right now!" he sneered, and decided to attack him.

Having caught his second wind, Goliath's mighty fist the size of a football finally landed on Brooklyn's face, the fist he had managed to avoid all night because of its power, because it had been infused with all the swing its owner could muster. 

Brooklyn couldn't help it. He saw a white wall and went down and the world began to dance wildly all around him.

Lexington had leaped to his defense, but Brooklyn saw none of it.

His mind was knocked back into those misty hills of his past, back in Scotland, when everything was so simple and Goliath was his big brother and Demona his big sister and he knew nothing about cities or cell phones or magic, just hills and castles and night and stars.

Goliath, helping him tame a horse. Goliath, teaching him to glide. Goliath, sending them to the rookery, while the rest of his kind died.

Brooklyn blinked and unwrapped himself from the tangles of nostalgia. And he saw Goliath with his hands around Lexington's neck.

"Three down, two to go!" the false Goliath was screaming, as he tightened his grip on Lexington's sleek green neck and he began to choke. The young gargoyle couldn't possibly get away from someone ten times his size.

For a moment, Brooklyn froze. He looked at them and for a moment, he forgot what he was going to do. He stared at the two of them like it was a tableau of emotion frozen in amber, knowing that this was a sight he could never see again, if there was justice in the universe.

Goliath, dead in the hands of that blue king. Goliath, why the hell did you have to be a hero? Goliath, in the pyre of his remembrance ceremony. Goliath, who is dead, and this travesty taking his place.

Brooklyn leapt to his feet.

PART FOUR

The only things he knew about magicians came from the mass media. If Dennis had his comic book lore right, the sorcerer was probably trying to take over the world or something. And according to the numerous fantasy games he'd played in his youth, hand-to-hand combat was probably a bad idea. The huge magic staff wasn't a good sign either. Other than that, he didn't know much.

Guided only by the words of the beautiful lady, Dennis took upon himself the quixotic quest of stealing the magical staff of a sorcerer that had been wiping the floor with a clan of gargoyles a few moments before.

He wasn't sure why he believed in the lady to begin with. The only reason why he stayed was because he had promised himself to get to the bottom of this; because he had no choice if he wanted his life back. He was determined enough about it that he was willing to risk going against the guy in the courtyard, who performed all sorts of deadly pyrotechnics against the poor gargoyle clan. It never stopped being absurd, however. _Ten years of med school and here I am, fighting demons. Under other circumstances, it would be hilarious._

He needed help and he knew nobody was available. He settled with looking for weapons, something for defense. With that in mind, he sat in the stairway and searched through his bags. There had to be some easy way to get that staff without much hassle.

The only useful thing he could find was the stun gun he had wisely brought in case of trouble. But the stun gun alone wouldn't do. He was forced to use more mundane ways to deal with the mad magician. In the nearest maintenance room, the only thing that sparked an idea was a box of matches and a can of air freshener. At least he had the element of surprise on his side; nobody knew he was here. It would be a matter of using it for his advantage—

_He's coming_

Even though he didn't know it and couldn't possibly notice, and even though he didn't posses any kind of super hearing or special sight, he knew that somebody was coming this way.

It wasn't a divine revelation. It was like remembering an insignificant fact or trivia, like remembering what he had for lunch, especially as if it had been a particularly unusual lunch in a place he hadn't visited in a long while, that it had stuck in his memory longer than usual, and had been triggered by something as intangible as a feeling.

It was a sentiment that was absurd for its sheer simplicity. He had always known he was here. Only now he remembered that he had always known. And it stirred nothing but a small tingle of morbid curiosity, as if it was just a very interesting trinket with lots of movable parts that belonged as an oddity on his desk.

_Odd,_ was the only thing he could think, _How very odd…_

He placed the air freshener and the matches back in the closet. He put the stun gun back in his pocket. Ten years of medical school and science were gone down the drain. Screw weapons and defenses, because he wasn't going to get hurt.

He liked feeling like this, even though he was aware that Dennis Anderson wasn't supposed to know this.

But it didn't mind.

*                               *                                 *

It hadn't been as difficult as Lester expected. While the gargoyles were tearing each other apart, he took the opportunity to gracefully make his escape. Not so graceful, the scythe was incredibly heavy and bulky and very eye-catching to say the least. Not every day you see a guy run around with the Grim Reaper's favorite weapon.

Okay, so his plans had gone down the tube. There was still the matter of dealing with the key. He didn't care who the snotty fey thought he was, he was pretty damn sure Oberon's black sheep was the one he looked for. Really, who else could it _possibly be?_

Alas, gods need to live to fight another day. He would have to figure something out later on.

Unfortunately, even his escape plans had to be postponed. He had been spotted by David Xanatos and the fairy, which Lester thought it was ok, he supposed he could just kill him now and spare himself some trouble later.

They had him cornered against the end of the hall, next to an artificial potted plant, and both of them had whipped out their guns.

            "Gentlemen!" Lester reprimanded, as he pointed the scythe towards them, "No need to get rough!" He hadn't finished speaking when their guns started to superheat and melted in their hands. "Neat trick, huh?"

            "Cute, real cute, Lester…" Xanatos said as he rubbed both his hands together, "Either way, it's all over."

            "We want you cards and some explanations about your powers," Owen Burnett continued.

            "And I want a tropical island filled with a harem of beautiful women willing to screw me 24/7 and _you_ don't see _me complaining about it!"_

            "Look, Lester, I don't know what the hell is your problem, but there's still time to talk this out like normal people…" Xanatos said, in a last ditch effort to save the situation, because he had wisely assumed Lester had the upper hand in this.

            "No!" Lester said defensively, "You were a prick, so now you've got to deal with it!"

At once, he started to perform his old trick. Though his power didn't allow him to see the future, he could see past and present just fine. It was a matter of taking a peek inside the lines of destiny surrounding the two men before him, picking apart through the strings until he stumbled upon a juicy detail and did what he did best: annoy the hell out of them.

"You've always been a prick, Xanatos… don't you ever wonder why dad left you after the funeral? Why even your so-called friends and best business allies bailed out on you in those dark times? Don't let blondie here fool you… he's got issues. Anyone stupid enough to be with you gotta have a few loose screws. You see, when he refused to return to Avalon, Big Papa Smurf tried to fix his common sense like a madman fixes a TV with a baseball bat…"

            "Stop it!" Owen interrupted, getting angry, "I don't see what the point of this is!"

            "Why are you afraid?" Lester teased, "Worried I might give away the secret that gnaws your mind and you don't know yourself? Or shove the fact that you're just a substitute—"

            Xanatos was the one to interrupt this time. "Shut up and just give us your stupid rod!"

            "**_Make me!_"**

Xanatos had exactly one second to duck before the scythe lopped his head off like corn around harvest. Heavy as it was, it wasn't easy to maneuver. The attack backfired on Lester when Xanatos grabbed it and tried to pull it away from his grip. They struggled for the rod, circling each other, until Lester delivered a kick to Xanatos' gut, making the millionaire fall on his back.

But the scythe was still torn from Lester's grip.

Burnett had thought fast and yanked it away with the magic he was beginning to tap from his inner self. It floated near the sorcerer child.

"You're not the only one with dirty tricks…" Owen Burnett warned, his tone icy, but strangely playful. The scythe was still suspended by in the air by invisible wires. And he grabbed it.

Before Burnett could know what would happen, the scythe let out a bolt of energy that effectively electrocuted and hurled him several meters from where he stood.

"Ouch. Nice try, though." Lester replied casually.

*                           *                               *

When Owen was flung backwards, Xanatos immediately cried out his name and ran to his side, only to meet the white-haired incarnation instead.

The scythe quietly returned to Lester's hand. "No touching the gods' toys," He said with a sneer, "It is _forbidden_!" And he turned tail and ran back into the darkness.

Xanatos didn't listen. The shock had forced Owen to revert to his true self. He held the Puck instead, who wouldn't wake up how much he shook him… and he looked _so wrong. "His…"_

Worse of all, he wasn't quite breathing. And Xanatos began to panic.

*                            *                              *

Lester ran.

The millionaire, too busy doting over the fairy, didn't even notice. No matter. They both had better things to do at that moment.

Lester, for one, was planning to get the hell away from here, get some distance between him and this place, go to a bar and have himself a private little party. Ding, dong, the key is dead! Well, not quite dead when he left him, but incapacitated.

_Actually…_ he considered for a moment, as he slowed down and stopped. He stared at the scythe in his hands. _If he's the key, why did it shock him?_

There wasn't much he could do about it. Turn around and ask?

Grunting, he started running. He wasn't one to party before the fat lady sang, so he was bothered tremendously about that. He made a conscious effort not to claim any sort of victories. If anything, it felt like it had all happened too quickly. Couldn't go home just yet.

No release from waking up at midnight, dreaming about a bullet entering your brain and landing flat-faced on an ugly green carpet in desperate need of a vacuum cleaner. No escape from worries about a mad queen unleashing Armageddon on the world.

_I'll try again if I have to, until it's all over and the matter is settled. I don't care how many egos I brush, how many rich people I piss off, how many enemies I gain, because I'd rather live my life a fugitive, running from armed goons in the depths of __Mexico__, than commit suicide. That's how much I wish to live. Because above all, I'm not one to lose hope. As long as I breathe, I hope._

Suddenly, he stopped dead on his tracks.

Apparently, he had missed someone.

He had just run into a hallway where some guy was standing around, blocking his exit. He wasn't blocking it on purpose. It seemed that he had just walked in when Lester crossed his sight. If anything, he was as surprised as Lester was, but it was a muted, quiet surprise. The only thing the other guy did was tilting his head in curiosity. "I know you," he said.

Lester didn't recognize him. He didn't even see him coming. Nothing slipped by would-be god Lester Kramer, not by the would-be deity that could see the strands of destiny around men. So Lester was particularly amazed this odd fellow flew pass his radar completely undetected.

"I know you," the odd man repeated as he started coming closer, "I know you."

Lester took a few steps backwards and pointed the scythe at him, just in case. "Yes, I'm a rather popular fellow these days. Now, dear sir, move aside or, as clichéd as this might sound, you're going to get hurt."

            "I know you," the other guy repeated, taking a few steps toward him. "I want my property back."

            Lester blinked. All right, that had been unexpected. "That's far enough, sonny. Now move along and _leave_."

            "I know you. I want my property back. Give it back, would-be Seres, for it was not you whom The Hand That Writes It All chose to make judgement."

Lester's eyes widened when he finally realized who he was dealing with. 

_No…_

"Were you trying to delay judgement, would-be angel?" the stranger was pressing on, "Foolish creature. Did you actually think you would escape the Will of He Who Is, Was, and Forever Will Be?"

"**_Damn you, Seres, and all your kind!_" Lester shrieked as his eyes flared white and he summoned wild storms and violent winds by raising the scythe up high, "****_You're the one creature I just…can't…_deal with!" **

And he attacked.

PART FIVE

Down in the Courtyard, something went wrong.

Having caught his second wind, Brooklyn managed to pry the fake Goliath off Lexington before he choked him to death. Brooklyn managed to get his comrade aside to face G— to face that travesty alone.

"I know you're in there, Lester…" Brooklyn warned as both gargoyles began to circle each other, "… you're going to be sorry you messed with us…"

He had been kicked. He had been bitten. He had been insulted, he had been beaten to a pulp. But for Brooklyn, leader of the Manhattan Clan, it was his finest moment, the best one he would get in this world.

Just half an hour ago, a stranger had told him that he was living a mistake. Brooklyn listened, wild eyed, and though Owen Burnett didn't believe it, the gargoyle saw all his fears confronted.

So. It was true. This wasn't meant to be. He had known it for some time now, from the second his beloved leader had been struck down by Oberon three months ago. But he had thought himself insane. That if it turned out to be true, that the universe had gone wrong, he would fall apart, shout 'I knew it!' to the heavens and know for sure he had lived for nothing.

Yet, that was not what happened.

He realized all of the sudden that, mistake or not, with Goliath or without him, that it had not all being in vain. Life may make plans, write destinies, but the things that ruled men and gargoyles always had the last word.

He felt different now. Just yesterday night, he thought the stars were commanding him to set things right, and when Lester talked of time and fate, he thought that was what he needed to fix. Fix time.

But that wasn't why the stars led Brooklyn to the truth of this existence. No, their purpose was far more rewarding: for even if the Heavens fell apart like Lester claimed, Brooklyn could die content with the knowledge he had measured up against the wickedest version of his beloved leader and made the mark.

Whether Goliath died or not was some sort of bizarre cosmic accident, it didn't matter anymore. What did matter was that Brooklyn was determined to make the best of it. This situation landed on him without notice, nothing could be done from that part. What he could do was rise to the occasion and admit that bad things happen and that it's up to us to stand up or stay down.

Bad things happen all the time. Goliath died? Very well, he would deal with it. A trial to determine whether his life was worth living would soon begin? He would deal with it too. No longer he would dwell on nature's mistakes; shitty or not, crooked or not, this was his life and he would live it to the fullest.

            "So…it's down to us…" the fake one had sneered, "…why are you even trying? You know that you'll never be half the gargoyle whose face I borrow, right?"

            "That doesn't matter…" Brooklyn replied offhandedly, "Because nothing will be the same again, I realize that now. And that I don't have to be the same if I don't want to."

            "Brave words, little one. Pray that your brave words don't leave you in the last moment of existence. Don't you know you are aiding the forces of destruction? Lester only meant to help you…"

            "Thanks, but no thanks. We shall deal with our own destinies ourselves, and neither fairy queens nor smart-assed killers will interfere in our decisions!"

            "You mean the _key's_ decision!"

            "What_ever!"_

The false gargoyle growled and got ready to leap on Brooklyn… only he changed his mind.

Brooklyn got ready to defend himself from an attack that would not come. For the false one immediately stopped growling and looked up towards the sky like a frightened animal distressed over something, making him forget Brooklyn at once…

_"My general awakes! He awakes and beckons me to return! The pretence is over and I bow to his will!"_ He set his eyes on Brooklyn and added, with his voice growing fainter and fainter, _"The die is cast and the judge awakes. You've wakened the key and set in motion the events leading to either your salvation or destruction. Come what may, I hope you're happy with what you've just unleashed! Pray your courage doesn't fail you and live with it, for as long or for as little time you may get!"_

Brooklyn watched amazed as the false one became transparent and slowly, like a photograph that slowly faded over many years, his image became clear and insignificant, without any fanfare but for a soft wind that resembled more a summer squall than the hurricane he had been.

Just like that, it was over.

"The pretence is over…?" Brooklyn asked himself in a whisper, until Lexington's incessantly coughing made him snap out of it. "_Lex_!"

"I'm fine…" the green gargoyle said as Brooklyn helped him up, "I saw everything… but where did he go…?"

His question was answered when an explosion rocked the monastery's second floor. The earth trembled in such a way the balcony started to break above them, and they had to roll away before the concrete crushed them to death.

            Brooklyn could only wisecrack. "Fun never stops, huh?" 

            "Where's everybody? Where's Lester!?" Lexington snapped in return.

            "Three guesses…" Brooklyn said grimly.

He pointed upwards, where the balcony had been. A bright blue light was coming from inside the building, and it was leaking from all the windows and doors of the second floor.

            "The pretense is over…?" Lexington said, "What does that mean? Brooklyn, what have we done wrong!?"

            "We haven't done anything. And even if we wanted to, there's nothing we could've done to stop… whatever it is that's going on. I understand that now, the purpose of the key…and it isn't what Lester thinks it is… " Brooklyn said, his mind far away from that place. He shook his head and snapped out of it. "Come on, Lex… something's definitely happening up there…"

Lexington nodded in compliance and the young gargoyles ran inside the building to find out what it was.

*                     *                        *

The bewildered group of mortals outside in the Cloister's parking lot saw the explosion on the second floor and hanged on for the worst in an already horrible night.

            "The hell is that!?" Matt Bluestone asked as blue light exploded from the building's second floor. "Brooklyn and the others are in there!"

            But Hudson couldn't care less at the moment, "Never mind that! We hafta get Angela out of here! We can't wait for them anymore!"

            "But the others—"

            "Brooklyn and Lexington are warriors and Xanatos and Owen are wise old devils; they know what to do!" Hudson interrupted.

He was right. Angela, with a broken arm, was bleeding to death in Broadway's arms. The aquamarine gargoyle could barely hold back his tears. "Hold on, darling…"

Matt frowned but saw his options were running out. Here they were, three gargoyles and two humans, what was left of a delegation meeting a psycho that turned out to be some sort of demigod.

Thinking fast, Matt said, "Well, let's take her to Talon and the others! I'm sure… I'm sure the others will be fine… Elisa, what'd you think?"

Detective Elisa Maza grunted something about it, but for the most part, she sat on the fender of her old Chevy, staring down at her shoes with crossed arms, with that deadly little look on her face… __

She had been apathetic to everything, from Angela's arm to the guys inside, to a point that Matt felt like slapping her. But now wasn't the time.

"Why don't we take them to Eerie? I have medics there," another voice interrupted.

Matt did not quite recognize, or even notice coming, Mr. David Xanatos and the other figure that held onto the billionaire for balance. Xanatos was missing his ponytail, his hair looked unbelievably wild and his expression was eerily grim.

As for his jacket, he had lent it to his companion, who buried his face in it. He held on to Xanatos to not trip, and there was something decidedly drunk about the way he walked, and he looked shorter than Owen, which brought Matt to another question, where _was Owen?_

In his place, he saw a white-haired young man with porcelain blue eyes, who for a moment peeked his head out of his jacket… but according to the stories Matt had heard, his face—

"He's the… but his…"

The young man buried himself in Xanatos' arms and yelled, "I wanna go home!" 

Matt stood mute for a moment, and could say nothing about it, and didn't argue Xanatos' wisdom when he said Angela needed help, that they couldn't wait for Brooklyn and Lexington, that Angela couldn't afford the delay.

And he could say nothing about the look of hatred Xanatos shot Elisa, nor the little smirk Matt thought he saw on her face.

*                          *                            *

Seres was never surprised. Seres was never much of anything to begin with. In fact, Seres was notoriously known for his utter and complete lack sentiment and sense of self. That's why he needed a crutch. And the stranger Lester had the misfortune to come across happened to be that crutch.

Lester Kramer realized all too late how utterly mistaken he had been. All this time, he thought it was the fairy. He had stacked his whole mortal _existence_ on that blasted fairy. But all of the sudden, Seres threw him a fastball and appeared to him in the unlikeliest of places, in someone Lester had already met in another life, when he was innocent and mortal and knew nothing of gods and goddesses.

He had gone momentarily insane and actually tried to hurt him with the scythe. Of course, Seres didn't allow himself to be hit and blinded Lester with a surge of blue energy that rocked all the premises.

Lester landed unceremoniously on the floor and the scythe landed a few meters away from him with a loud _clang that echoed in the dark hall. He was unhurt, since Seres hadn't wanted to hurt him, but that creature at his gentlest could destroy a small island. Lester shuddered to think what would happen if he got pissed._

"Ah," Seres said as he summoned the scythe to himself. He grabbed it by the middle and inspected it. "I've been looking for this."

Lester leapt to his feet and took several steps away from it. "**_Damn you, idiotic creature! Why can't you leave me in peace?_**"

Seres blinked. He didn't understand. He never understood. He didn't know fear or pain, only a very faint sense of curiosity. He was very curious about Lester, for one thing.

            "I know you," he repeated.

            "Of course you do, idiot! Dammit, you haven't changed a bit! Well, what could I expect? Creatures like you never, ever change!"

            Seres looked at him. He didn't understand anything about anything. "I was you. Once. You're the wicked one."

Lester did not like the twist it gave to the word 'wicked' and knew that if he didn't do something, there was a very real chance he could die, visions about green carpets and bullets on his forehead aside.

He needed to plan. He needed to regroup. And he needed to do something with Seres, he couldn't have him up and about just yet. Things had gone horribly, horribly wrong, but even then he worked hard to not let his good cheer leave him.

_I'm not dead, I'm not dead, and you have a back-up plan! I can do something. I can DO something!_

He refused to give up. This was just a minor setback, he told himself. And he needed to buy himself some time and he could not allow Seres to go rampant tonight, so he was forced to use extreme measures.

Indeed, Seres was beginning to look angry, which was pretty damn frightening, because ordinarily Seres didn't feel anything at all. "Wicked one…" he repeated, and started walking closer, this time with ideas of divine justice in his mind, grabbing the scythe securely by both hands.

So… he winged it.

Without the scythe, Lester was powerless. But he still had some 'charge' in him, so he summoned what little energy he had left and poured his heart and soul into his spell. It wasn't that he had expected all of this to happen, rather, that he hoped with all his being that it wouldn't.

Lester got ready to give it all he had and all around them, the wind began to pick up. They were soon inside the little hurricane Lester had summoned. It blew away furniture and potted plants, and even threatened to take down the walls and ceiling. It tossed everything that wasn't nailed down to the floor out the windows, destroying what little survived from the other two windstorms that night.

Lester stuck to his guns while avoiding being hit with the flying junk, but Seres was not impressed, though he was thankfully clueless as to what was 'the wicked one's true purpose. If anything, it only made Seres a little annoyed, like a parent that was scolding a rambunctious child in a store that sold porcelain figures. "Stop this! You're breaking everything!"

Knowing that he couldn't possibly keep this up, Lester took a deep breath and began his chant. The wind carried his words away, but he knew it could hear him. "I bind you, _Atropos_, from harming others and harming yourself!"

Seres' eyes widened. "_No…!"_

"I bind you, _Maktub, from harming others and harming yourself!"_

Seres covered his ears, closed his eyes tight and shrieked like a child_. "Stop it, I don't want to hear anymore!_"

"I bind you, _Dennis, from harming others and harming yourself! Go back to sleep and awake your avatar!"_

"_You can't do this! I'm the one descended! Try as you might, I shall awake again, wicked one!" Seres snapped back, his voice barely audible above the racket around them. "_You can't do this!_ _You can't do this_!"_

Lester choked the urge to say 'I already did'. Besides, the spell took so much out of him he could feel his knees buckling and his whole body getting ready to swoon. He held onto his last piece of consciousness just barely long enough to say the final words. "Thrice I Bind Thee, Thrice I Bind Thee, _Thrice__ I Bind Thee!"_

He honestly felt like patting himself in the back. Alas, he could not. In his desperate battle to remain in control, Seres let out one final, frightened wave of blue energy, which sent Lester flying backwards and put the much-maligned building in an architectural intensive care status.

Lester passed out. The last thing he saw was polka dots.

*                            *                              *

Brooklyn and Lexington didn't know what hit them.

Brooklyn opened his eyes and found himself lying flat-faced and rather uncomfortably on the first steps of a stairway. Lexington was waking up, rubbing the back of his neck, but he was lying facing up, yet backwards to the stairs.

The gargoyle shook his head and tried to juggle his thought back in order. They had seen an explosion. They had gone to investigate. They wanted to go to the second floor.

            "…and there was another explosion…and we rolled down the way we came…" Brooklyn whispered to himself. That would explain the mind-numbing back pain.

            "You ok, Brook?" Lexington was asking.

            Actually, Brooklyn felt like staying at those steps, sleep there and never wake up. But his sense of worry was stronger that his aching bones. He struggled to get up and took a deep breath. "Come on… let's finish this once and for all…"

They got up and walked up those stairs.

It wasn't what they were expecting.

The first thing they noticed was that the whole second floor was getting ready to cave in and take down everyone there with it. Random short circuits spooked them as they wondered if this had been some sort of bomb. But bombs don't give out blue light.

The second thing they noticed was Lester, completely unconscious on the floor. There was smoke coming out of his clothes, although he didn't look burned at all.

They didn't have time to ponder that curiosity, for they were focusing on an ordinary-looking young man that would've looked completely ordinary if he hadn't been floating a couple of inches off the ground while holding Lester's big scythe.

He saw them coming and said, with a voice that sounded like a far-away waterfall, _"My name is Seres. The trial has begun."_

Just like that, he collapsed and landed on the floor, like a marionette whose strings got suddenly cut. The rod fell besides him and with a bright burst of light, reverted to a bunch of scattered tarot cards.

            "Brooklyn…"

            "I know, Lex. I know."

PART SIX

He woke up hours later and was unpleasantly surprised.

Actually, he had spent most of the night in and out of it, much like someone trying to shake off the effects of sleeping pills. It was frustrating, knowing you had to wake up when your body refused to yield to your commands.

He tried, he gave up, then he tried again. And when he finally mustered enough energy open his eyes, the veil lifted immediately and it was like the sleepiness never was.

It was a rude awakening.

Dennis immediately realized he didn't know how he ended up in this strange bed, much less why the blazes he'd been handcuffed to a bed —_handcuffed._

"What the—!?" he shrieked as he tried to sit up the best he could. Thankfully, whoever did this was gracious enough to only handcuff his right hand, leaving him with enough room to maneuver. 

The handcuff was even more bewildering, for it wasn't a handcuff in the modern, police way. This seemed to be a specially designed handcuff, and it somewhat resembled the chains they used on prisoners in the middle ages. It was black, made of heavy iron, not stainless steel. He didn't even know they made handcuffs like these.

An absurd thought crossed his mind… _Custom-made handcuffs for the sadomasochist in your life?___

He laughed without energy.

Other than the handcuffs, the room was normal. In fact, it looked like a very familiar guestroom…

"Xanatos!" he assumed correctly. This was one of his dozen guestrooms. And why the handcuff!? He tried to connect the dots. The gargoyles, the clan, the sorcerer person. He was about to get the rod from the sorcerer person…

_Then_ what?

If that didn't worry him enough, there was also that strange inscription somebody had been macabre enough to write in lipstick in the mirror facing the bed: 'I BIND THEE.'

He soon noticed the words weren't only in the mirror. It was also written in the walls, in the ceilings and even in the carpet. 'I BIND THEE' was written everywhere he could see.

There were only so many things he could take in a job. Bad hours, fine. Jealous assistants, _fine. Talking statues, **_fine_.**_

"But I'm **_not_ going to take anymore of this! I _know_ you're out there, Xanatos! I _know_ you can hear me! I swear to God, if you don't let me go I'll sue _you, your _gargoyles_, your assistant and your whole damn family! When I'm done, I'm going to have a brand-new castle! You hear!? _****_Let me go! Let me go right now_!"**

He screamed. He yelled. He cursed them all to hell. And when his lungs gave up, he tried brute force against the bedpost he'd been chained to.

No matter what he did, it only made him feel more sad and worthless, like he had lost control of everything, even the illusion of being in control. And he realized he had lost both things a long time ago, not since he started working here, but before that.

He just may have gone a little crazy at that moment. Here he was, tied to the bed like an animal, in a castle of mirrors and mirages, where things get hidden into closets, nothing spoke of the obvious and people clang to each other, not because they were in love, but because there was nobody else.

Self-centered delusions, that was the order of the day. Xanatos and Burnett, the detectives, and no doubt even those gargoyles ate, lived and breathed in those illusions, in this nothingness, without going anywhere, without having a life.

And Dennis had the horrible feeling he'd been the most delusional of them all.

"Get a life, you idiots! All of you, get a fucking life!" he screamed, not just to whoever was listening from behind the planted bugs all over the guestroom, but to himself as well.

_TO BE CONTINUED…_


End file.
